


She Took the Midnight Train Going Anywhere

by theladyscribe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever told her that the road could eat you alive, but it does, oh it does. // Jo meets new hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Took the Midnight Train Going Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [And We Walked Off To Look For America](https://archiveofourown.org/works/370780) by [theladyscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe). 



It’s lonely in this world, lonelier than she ever expected. No one ever told her that the road could eat you alive, but it does, oh it does.

Maybe that’s why she ended up settling in Duluth for so long, because she was lonely and she knew that someone would find her eventually.

But it was the Winchesters (Sam) who found her, and Jo’s on the road again, traveling, drifting, no destination, no hunt. She kind of wishes there was a hunt because at least then she’d have something to do. But there’s not, not one that she can find (not that she’s really trying anyway), so she drifts, idly wondering how her mother’s doing and whether Dean ever got Sam back to normal.

And then she meets them. She’s working in a bar in the low country of South Carolina, doing her best to forget about hunting, but when they walk in, she finally decides that hunting’s not going to forget about her. They’re two girls, both blonde, younger (surprisingly) than her, but definitely hunters, road-weary, eyes alert and smiles tight. She pours them each a shot of whiskey before they even ask.

“Thanks,” says the younger, her voice roughshod like she’s either been screaming or smoking a lot recently. The other one – taller, older – doesn’t say anything, but looks like she’s trying to puzzle Jo out.

They’ve got that look to them – like maybe they’re more than just companions, more than just friends, and Jo thinks about stepping away, giving them their space, but there’s no one else in the bar, no one else working. Besides, it’s been a long time since she tended bar for a couple of hunters, and she’s curious about these two.

“How’d you two get into hunting?” she asks, not-so-subtly, and she almost laughs at the identical looks of shock on the girls’ faces.

“What are you talking about?” the older girl asks, ice in her voice, the kind that won’t melt even after centuries of warmth.

“I grew up around hunters,” Jo says, back-pedaling, trying to keep them from walking out the door too soon. “I can pick ‘em out from a mile away.” She sticks out a hand. “Josephine Harvelle”—the name she’s always wanted—“but you can call me ‘Jo’.”

The younger one answers for both of them. “Kat Goldman, and this is Charlie Stevens.” She pauses. “We’ve only been hunting for a few months.”

“Since last Christmas,” Charlie says quietly. Jo wonders what sort of Christmas they had to make them start hunting.

“You hunting anything now?” She’s surprised at herself; she was pretty sure she’d put hunting behind her (just like she’d put Dean Winchester behind her), but these girls’ve sparked a new interest.

“Just passing through, looking for the next one,” Kat answers. “Why? You know of a job?”

She shakes her head. “But I’ve got a spare room and real food at my apartment, if you want a place to stay for the night.”

They both eye her warily before Charlie asks, “We wouldn’t be putting you out?”

Jo laughs. “Of course not. I wouldn’t’ve offered if it’d put me out. Listen, I’m done with my shift here in just a bit, so if you hang around for a couple of minutes you can stay at my place. Saves you a night of scratchy motel sheets and bad coffee in the morning.”

They take her up on the offer, following her in an old Toyota that’s seen better days.

She leads them up the stairs and down the hall and lets them into her cheap little apartment. The extra room’s only got a couple mattresses stacked on the floor, but the whole place is well-heated, and neither of the girls complain.

Kat gets talkative while Jo cooks up some eggs and bacon. The other one – Charlie – hardly says a word, but Kat says enough for both of them. She tells Jo about the haunted asylum in her home town and about Charlie’s encounter with Bloody Mary.

“How’d you get away from Bloody Mary?” Jo asks, an eyebrow raised.

“The Winchesters saved me,” she whispers, and it takes everything Jo’s got to keep from dropping the frying pan.

“The Winchesters?”

“Yeah,” Kat answers for her. “They’re the ones who saved me, too. You know ‘em?” There’s a light in her eyes, like maybe this is the real reason these girls got into hunting, to find the Winchesters.

Jo shakes her head. “Heard of ‘em,” she lies. “Can’t say that I’ve ever known them.” She tries not to feel bad at the disappointment that flashes through both their eyes.

Jo lets them shower before she does, and when she comes out she can hear them talking quietly in the guest room. She retreats to her own room, crawling beneath the blankets and willing sleep to come easy tonight. Of course it doesn’t, and it’s not long before she starts hearing breathy moans through the thin walls, and she can feel the heat pooling between her own thighs. She reaches down, brushing light fingers against herself, trying (and failing) to satisfy an ache that goes deeper than desire.

It only makes her more lonely, and she wonders if she’ll ever be that close to _anyone_.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey.


End file.
